Saturday 21 August 2010

A Week Of Pictures.

An incredible week, weather-wise, with Autumn creeping in in tiny unseen increments that somehow we still perceive. Somehow. Is it in our bones? Our nose? Our skin? 
Somehow, we know. Although we still awake some mornings to hot summery days that bathe us in sunlight, we still pause and take note of the gathering birds that flock and swoop and dive in the air above us, and the sudden cloudbursts that come literally out of the blue.
And then, the grey days that drown in unrelenting rain, falling down the hills with nowhere else to go, reminding us that yes, Autumn is on it's way.












But Summer she is tenacious.

Sunday 15 August 2010

The Lonely Beast.

First of all, thank you all so much for your sweet, thoughtful words after my last sad post. My Only Girl is feeling a good bit better now and reading everyones lovely comments and in particular those that shared similar, sympathetic stories helped her a lot.
So today  I thought I would share some happier news with you all. My brother Chris, who I have featured here regularly, has recently shared the exciting and wonderful news that his gorgeous children's book is to be published!


You can read about how this came about over on his blog here: Chris Judge Illustration. And while it won't be out until early next year, you can pre-order it on Amazon here, and WH Smith here.

We are so proud of you, Chris!
Can't wait!

Wednesday 11 August 2010

The Cat And His Girl.

How do you console an inconsolable child when her most beloved cat dies?


Our lovely Oz was killed on Monday and My Only Girl is bereft. We all are really. He was the most cuddly , affectionate ridiculous cat who loved being the centre of attention and was happiest in someone's arms.
Ozymandias.

I will miss his little face looming out of the darkness at the window, tripping over him as he lies in the middle of the kitchen floor belly up waiting for you to stop and rub his tummy, that cheeky look on his face that he knows you won't resist. His little tapping footsteps on my bedroom floor in the morning and the gentle weight of him landing on us with a quiet 'hey! C'mon! I'm hungry!'

But most of all, what breaks my heart is how much she misses him. 
Her little friend.

Wednesday 4 August 2010

Between The Mountains And The Sea.

Thoughts on a visit to my brother in the north-west, near our ancestral home.

We crossed the island, this island of ours, left our mountains and our sea. Crossed the island to this best-loved mountain and a sea of another, wilder kind.


In The Gamesmaster's House we dwelt for a time, retrieving those familial bonds,
the ones we sometimes lose sight of.


And we measured out our time, aware of the limit of the falling sands that all too soon would be gone and we would wend our way home once more.


I felt the wildness that stirs under the edge of this land, it burrowed under my skin. The deep echo under the mountains that holds some part of me from before I was born.


The need to bring my children here, it guides my hand as I show them they are here too.



Do you know your place? You feel it like a heartbeat under your hand.

Look. Press your palm there. Do you feel it?